


Tyranny

by GothicWolf03



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: ACIII, Evil Connor, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicWolf03/pseuds/GothicWolf03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was captured by the rebels, and was forced to watch her fellow comrades die before her eyes. She didn’t understand any of it, the madness that had transpired under Washington’s reign, but the scars ran deeper than she had thought when she realized who had assisted the tyrant. And all she could think was why. Why did he betray his own kind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!!! This is the first story ever that I've uploaded, so any comments/reviews would greatly help me. In case you haven't seen the warnings, this story will contain graphic scenes and it is EXPLICIT. 
> 
> Also, I've never done this before, but I am making Connor evil in this fic---forewarning fans who adore him (I love him too :3). I just wanted to try something new, and so far I've never seen anyone make a fanfic about Connor being evil, so I'm challenging myself there. This may or may not be the only time I'll make him a villain.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

 

Array of bullets fired into the air, piercing through the exposed skins of the natives as one by one they fell down in agony. Blood spluttered out from one of the wounded, his hand trying to stop the wound from opening any further. His eyes widened as the spear of the musket sliced through his throat, taking away the air from his system as his irises diminished, hand falling limp onto the stained earth.

Alsoomse trekked through the trees, panting as she willed her aching legs to flee from the massacre. Her fingers tightly gripped onto the handle of her hatchet, cutting away at the overhanging leaves that shrouded her vision. She stopped in her tracks when she heard the distinct cry of her fellow comrade; brown eyes angrily stared below at the cowering native girl while the red coat advanced in every step he took.

Screeching in her native language, Alsoomse pounced on top of the soldier, her weight successfully knocking him down flat on the ground as the musket fell from his grasp. She gritted her teeth while driving the hatchet into his back, growling as she barraged the man with her violent assaults until he laid motionless.

“Are you okay?” the warrior asked, sheathing her weapon before carrying the small girl in her arms. “Where is your mother?”

Tears cascaded down the girl’s chubby cheeks, her throat constricting from the horror of the bloodshed that she witnessed. She feebly pointed towards the north, the exact place being Concord, before furrowing her tiny head on the woman’s shoulder.

“Do not worry, little one,” Alsoomse softly replied, stroking the girl’s head before dashing off towards her destination.

Everywhere she looked lifeless corpses piled up on the road, most of them belonging to her people while a few redcoats dispersed here and there. As she sprinted closer towards the wide-open crop fields, Alsoomse made sure to conceal their forms within the corn stalks while their enemies strolled past them into the woods.

Adjusting the girl’s petite frame in her arms, the Shawnee warrior peered over the stalk to watch the redcoats in the vicinity nudge the Indians with their menacing muskets. They couldn’t retaliate, their arms securely tied together with rope and their legs shackled together while they walked in a single line. She felt the girl’s body stiffen, a soft cry erupting from her mouth.

“Annazama,” the child spoke, her big sad eyes gazing at her mother’s battered form.

Alsoomse bit the inside of her cheeks, counting the number of people amidst the spectacle. _There’s over fifty redcoats, and only twenty of us left._

“I cannot bring you into this. Stay here where it is safe. Should anyone come, do your best to hide somewhere else. I will free your mother.” The girl nodded, her bare feet touching the soil as she hid further inside the corn field.

Narrowed eyes observed the prisoners being forced into a barricaded fort, guards set up in their respective outposts as they kept watch for any intruders. Withdrawing her bow and arrows, the Shawnee woman patiently waited until one of the guards steered away from his partner. She released the arrow and watched it swish past the trees, lodging itself in the guard’s throat. Alsoomse stealthily moved to a different hiding spot in the bushes, never once taking her eyes off of the fallen body.

Retracting another arrow, Alsoomse pointed skyward where another guard patrolled an outpost, hastily releasing the arrow as the redcoat painfully gurgled over the ledge, plummeting to his death. She didn’t waste time in climbing the fallen trunk of a tree, leaping between the v-shaped bark, distancing herself from the ground and away from the guards’ suspicious glances.

The native woman magically leaped onto the wooden roof of the outpost, silently crouching closer to the edge to survey her surroundings. Her people all had nooses around their necks as they stepped onto the platform, a few of them centered in a row over the trapdoors. No one stood watch over them, but the naked lever tempted any soldier willing to do the deed if anyone was spotted. She had to be extremely careful; if she was detected, then the very lives of her people would be lost.

_No more._

Hands on the edge of the roof, Alsoomse hung from the ledge as her legs tightly wrapped around the startled soldier’s throat beneath her, preventing his cry for help from escaping past his windpipes. She applied more pressure until she felt his body fluidly slide down onto the floor, no doubt knocked out. Leaping down, Alsoomse quickly stepped down the stairs, hiding in a cart of hay before the soldier could glance her way.

Pursing her lips together, the Shawnee native let out a soft, melodic call to escape from her slightly parted lips, causing the guard to snap his head toward the intrusion. He edged closer towards the haystack, eyes skeptically peering inside the thick mass of straw. The dark shadow emerged from the cart, pulling him with it as a blade edged inside his throat.

Alsoomse carefully placed the body away from her, her head popping out of the haystack, strands of hay falling in her braided hair. She left from her hiding place, heart hammering in her chest from the approaching figures that were coming her way, though they haven’t detected her judging from their ensuing conversation.

Her hands grasped at the support beam, hiding behind it when the guards stopped right in front of her, their backs turned as they observed the scenery before them. Perspiration slipped down her forehead as she quietly walked backwards, feet feeling for the downward slope of the stairs while she descended. Her breath stilled when her foot hit a barrel, releasing a sigh of relief when they didn’t hear her.

The native woman glanced between the barrels of gunpowder at her feet to the tiny shed on her right, a wicked idea formulating in her mind. _I need to distract them somehow, buy more time to free my people._

Hoisting the barrel in her arms, Alsoomse opened the rackety door of the shed and tossed the object inside. Then, she grabbed the lit lantern inside and threw as far back as she could, letting the flames gather into a big heap.

“I only have a few seconds before it explodes.” With that in mind, Alsoomse sprinted up the stairs, running across the platform to get as far away from the shed as possible. When she was at a safe distance, an explosion rattled the ground, a big fire releasing into the air with smoke covering almost half of the fort.

Her plan worked, for the guards immediately rushed to the scene, trying to find the perpetrator that caused the damage. Digging into her holster, the warrior withdrew several throwing knives and threw the weapons at the slick ropes that held her people captive.

The natives gasped in joy, tugging off their restraints as they helped the others who were still bound. She gave a soft smile in their direction, but a sudden shout snapped her out of her reverie.

“The prisoners are escaping!”

It was time to act. Alsoomse screamed in the air, swinging her hatchet down on a soldier before attacking the neighboring enemy. She didn’t mind the fresh blood that caked her blue outfit, her mind reeled on killing her foes. She grabbed a helpless soldier and placed him in front of her, letting the bullets wedge into his body.

_There are too many of them._ No matter how many she defeated, more seemed to appear out of nowhere. She could fight, but for how long before her stamina ran out?

“Alsoomse!”

The native woman looked back to the voice that called her name, blinking when a male hand reached down to her from his position on the horse. Grasping onto his palm, Alsoomse hoisted herself onto the creature, securing her arms around the Shawnee man’s waist before they trotted out of the fort while the redcoats were busy reloading their weapons.

“Krythin, where are you taking me?” She shot an arrow at a soldier when he aimed his musket at them.

“Someplace safe. Washington is beyond enraged that his plan is failing. He will be here any moment.” He shouted at the horse, tugging on its reins as they galloped faster into the woods.

“But the scepter . . . our people . . .”

Krythin shook his head, his long ponytail brushing against his shaved head. “We cannot do anything. We are greatly outnumbered. There is no longer a safe haven here; we will be forced to migrate to another continent with the tyrant’s growing power.”

She didn’t want to argue with the native, instead letting her teeth sink into her lower lip to contain her anger. _As if we would be accepted anywhere else. Starting over would be impossible . . ._

“Ack!” The horsed fearfully neighed, throwing the Shawnee natives off the saddle as the creature collapsed onto the ground in a big heap.

Alsoomse struggled in vain to get up, wincing from the various cuts on her arms and legs. Her eyes widened at the arrow sticking out of Krythin’s bare arm, the male native writhing on the floor in fits of hysteria.

“Krythin! Krythin, what’s wrong?” She instantly rushed to his cradled form, screaming when his mouth started foaming, his body uncontrollably convulsing in pain. Alsoomse harshly yanked the arrow out of his body, bringing the arrowhead closer to her nose. She cringed from the nasty odor that permeated from the sharp object, her fingers brushing away the tears forming in her eyes.

_Poison._

She tossed the wretched arrow away, her eyes pooling over as the older native clenched her hand tighter in his iron grip, eyes pleading to her.

“No!” Strong arms roughly steered her away from her friend, enveloping her into his broad frame. She futilely thrashed from the stranger’s muscular build, fiercely screaming in protest while her fingers inched for her hatchet within her holster.

The stranger sensed her reaction, knocking her axe onto the ground before savagely pulling at her dark hair, hearing her growl from the brutal act.

“Make her stop,” Washington replied as he rode into view, his dark cape ominously swaying behind him. Within his hand was the golden scepter, the apple crusted top dangerously glowing a soft orange light.

Alsoomse spat at the ground, eyes flashing wildly as she cursed the leader in her native language, only to have her head reel from the abrupt fist that collided with her face. Blood trickled down her nose, letting her tongue flick over her lips as she tasted the metallic substance.

“Go to hell,” she stated once she caught her breath, her chin defiantly held up high.

This infuriated the tyrant; she internally shuddered when she swore his eyes turned red, almost as if she was staring straight into the eyes of an evil spirit. But then the madness was replaced with his malicious smile, eyes narrowing at her trembling form.

“It seems the savage needs to show some respect to her superiors. Connor, consider her a gift for your valiant efforts today at Concord. Don’t hesitate in giving her a firm hand.” Her dark eyes widened, her body going still from his statement.

The captor’s large frame molded against hers, and she closed her eyes from the sickening feel of his hardened muscles beneath her curvy form. She struggled against his grasp, looking away from him as his breath hit her neck, quivering from his deep chuckle. “Don’t bother escaping. You’re mine now.”

Alsoomse could only close her eyes, envisioning the countless of lives taken from the tyrant’s rule. Haunting faces of her people lingered in her thoughts, along with the iron chains that took away every fiber of their will to fight.

But most of all, she imagined the red eyes that had scared her to death, and she already knew that her life was sold to the devil himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter does get a little bit graphic (no rape yet) but not too bad. Just warning you guys ahead of time.

Water dripped from the ceiling, landing on the stone ground in puddles that ran through the cracks. Chains dangled from the iron bars, clinking together as they disturbed the ominous silence that prolonged her impending doom.

The native woman sat crouched on the sterile floor, arms protectively wrapped around her body in order to combat the cold. Besides her moccasin boots, Alsoomse was only clad in her white top and shorts, her weapons and other layers of clothing forcefully stripped from her body.

Her dark eyes hollowly gazed at the iron clasps around her wrists, feeling like a hapless slave bound for eternity. Fresh tear marks stained her oval face, evident signs that she had been crying recently from everything that had transpired in the past few weeks.

Despite being held captive for so long, Alsoomse never got to meet another living soul during her stay at the temple. Her captor, whom she bitterly discovered was a Mohawk native, was so kind enough as to isolate her from the rest of society by trapping her in the lower chambers of the temple. From here Alsoomse couldn’t hear their strategic plans, and she half-wondered if he had purposefully trapped her here so that her chances of escape were slim to none.

Why? Why would any sane native assist the mad tyrant, and watch his own kind perish?

_It’s traitorous_ , she finally concluded while leaning her head against the wall. _There is no other way to explain it._

She tried so hard to picture him one day betraying Washington; maybe someone close to him was locked away like she was, and the only way in freeing them would be to pretend to side with the devil. She shook her head, refusing to accept the hopeful notion. He had _smiled_ from her pitiful attempt in fleeing, and his eyes had wickedly _relished_ the way her blood dripped down her face, loving the pain he inflicted on her. As far as she’s concerned, he wasn’t an ally . . .

Alsoomse jumped when she heard the jiggling sound of keys, retreating further into a corner as the looming door was wrenched open by a powerful force. She kept the bile down her throat when his larger form seemed to almost crowd the entire cell, a wild and animalistic aura permeating from him.

Her eyes lingered on the set of keys that casually hugged his right hip, its sweet call making her heart rapidly hammer in her chest. Elegant fingers itched on the helm of her shorts, wishing she had her hatchet so she could show him just how sorry he would be without his head.

“You want these?” He snatched the keys from its strap, holding them up high for her to see. The native man frowned when she averted her attention away from him, his blood boiling from her passive indifference. Connor roughly threw the keys behind him as his feet sauntered over to her crouched form, his strides reaching her in only a few steps.

The Shawnee warrior had flinched beneath her long braids from the violent jerking motion, growling at him when his arm pierced the flesh on her arm and hoisted her up. In an instant, she found her back being slammed against the jagged edges of the rocks, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. She closed her eyes when she felt his large hands encompass her slender neck, gulping as trails of fire seared her tan skin.

“Look at me,” he darkly commanded.

When she failed to comply with his threat, Connor abruptly constricted her windpipes, eyes glinting as he watched her eyes shoot open while she writhed underneath him. Her knees buckled underneath her, her hands trying to release his hold on her neck as she croaked. She felt herself slipping away, her face turned purple and her eyes started rolling to the back of her head.

Only when he finally eased his hold on her did Alsoomse fall to the ground, coughing uncontrollably into her arm.

“Get up!” She cried out when his foot kicked her, rolling her over onto her back until it slammed down against the iron chain that secured her wrist. Her chest heaved, her free legs futilely thrashing about in order to knock him over. But his heavy weight proved to be difficult.

A cool, metallic object prodded her exposed stomach, making the native woman still in fear. She tried masking her anxiety as the blade lightly grazed up her body, raising her white midriff as the weapon stopped at the swell of her breast, teasing the skin concealed underneath.

He hovered over her, his broader frame touching her chest with the dagger pressed between them. Alsoomse stared into his intense dark eyes that burned with a mixture of hatred and lust, a shiver crawling down her spine.

“Just kill me,” she pleaded. “You’ve already taken everything from me: my weapons, my people, and my will. What’s stopping you?”

Long brown locks fell over his chiseled face, feeling them delicately brush her cheeks while their breaths intermingled with one another. He shifted closer to her, so close that their lips almost met to finally unleash the underlying tension between them.

Brushing a stray lock away from her face, Connor breathed in her ear in his native language. _You belong to me. Together we will rule over this land._

Before she could utter a word, the Mohawk’s lips crushed against hers while the dagger withdrew from its place. Alsoomse regulated her breathing while the native man above her feasted on her mouth, gasping in shock as his tongue brushed against hers. His hands were relentless, groping every inch of her exposed skin.

She tried pushing him off of her, hands futilely shoving onto his massive shoulders, but his thighs remained rooted in place. Her whole body trembled in fear, the salty tears pricking her eyes as she tried to dissolve his face from her mind.

Alsoomse breathed heavily when his moist lips disconnected from her own, a long strand of saliva hanging between their mouths appearing before he nipped at her neck. His hands had now ventured further down her body, goosebumps marring her skin as his fingers caressed her legs. She whimpered from his ministrations, fisting her fingers in his robes in order to push his body off of hers.

_I don’t want this._ The Shawnee woman would never have guessed that her first intimate moment would be with her enemy, and she would be damned if she allowed him to take her innocence away as well.

When he roughly kissed her again, Alsoomse refused to part her lips, causing a low growl to rumble from his chest. With every fiber of her will stored inside of her, Alsoomse channeled all of the memories of her loved ones, using that pain and anger as she bit down on his lower lip. Hard.

“Agh!” She wasted no time in tackling him over her, grabbing the discarded dagger that fell from his grasp. Sprinting over to the locked cell, she rapidly toggled the weapon through the little slot of the keyhole, expertly jiggling it until she heard the door click.

The native woman had almost smiled from her chance of escape until she felt a violent tug from the chains on her wrists bring her crashing back into his solid chest.

“No!” She growled, gasping as his fingers made a chokehold around her neck. Alsoomse bit down on his fingers, closing her eyes as she was throttled against his frame. She cried out as the back of her head was being snatched by him, his hand dragging her head up with such brutality her neck almost snapped in two.

_I was so close . . . If only . . ._

“You thought you could escape?” he hissed out, fingers clenching in a vice grip on her dark locks. Connor hated how she resisted, with her teeth gritting together to prevent her screams from escaping her swollen lips.

“You do not own me!” she spat.

His warm breath made her look the other way, her breathing becoming erratic as she could feel a drop of blood from his lip leisurely trickle down her neck. She shuddered as his teeth lightly scraped over her neck, teasing her with his sharp canines over the hollow place on her collarbone. “We will see about that.”

Her screams reverberated throughout the walls, the sinful blade scratching over her hipbone in long strokes. Her vision became blurry, tears cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall. He never once faltered in his handiwork, the dagger scraping over her side as he carved out a word.

_R . . . A . . ._

Alsoomse fervently shook her head, willing to erase this horrible memory forever while Connor assaulted her body. Her thoughts morphed into happier scenes of her and a meadow, all of her people smiling at her. She imagined the little girl and her mother, at Krythin and how he protected her like a brother.

_T . . . O . . . N . . ._

She couldn’t tell when he had applied more pressure, for the ringing noise in her ears blocked away all of her screams, his pants against her neck, and the hammering of her heart. There was a dull ache in her chest, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head just as footsteps were heard from far away.

* * *

 

Blood had stained the purified water between the cracks of the rocks, pooling away from the crouched woman at the far corner. Her wrists contained fresh scars from the forceful pulls from the native man, stinging her flesh with a searing pain.

Her teeth clattered from the cold, her fingers already turning blue. She protectively wrapped her arms around her knees, letting her warm breath hit her skin in a futile attempt to defrost. Alsoomse winced when she tried shifting her body, glancing down at his masterpiece with a scornful expression.

_Ratonhnhaké:ton._

“Life that is scratched,” she murmured to herself, sniffing in melancholy. “Whose life? I wonder.”

Her fingers lightly traced over the gory wound, contemplating over its meaning as her eyes stared off into an unknown place. Trailing her hands downward, she retracted a tiny object from within her shorts, the steel endpoint glinting from the small light in the cell.

Throughout the whole ordeal with Connor, Alsoomse managed to sneakily steal one of his darts from within his robes. He may have damaged her body, but her mind was still intact, and right now she would never abandon her plot of escape.

She will find a way out, even if she died trying.

Alsoomse had waited nearly half an hour until she was fully sure that she was alone. A guard had interrupted Connor’s sadistic display, informing him of Washington’s command in sending Connor to Lexington to round up the remaining rebels. Alsoomse had hoped Connor would comply, his deep frown had her worried that he would murder the guard for interrupting and continue with his torture. She was relieved when his weight was off her body, leaving her there bleeding on the floor without any treatment.

Bringing her wrists up to her face, she uncomfortably placed the tip of the dart inside the minuscule hole that bound her hands together, patiently trying to hear the soft sound that promised her freedom. She sighed as the heavy mass fell apart, clanking onto the hard stone floor as she rubbed her sore wrists in comfort.

Hoisting herself up while using the wall as support, Alsoomse limped her way over to the cell door, once again picking the lock with the dart as she exited from the room. Climbing up the looming steps, Alsoomse peered in all directions, satisfied to find no guards roaming about the floor. She curiously walked over to the expansive closed door, opening it as she felt the cool breeze of the fresh air hit her face. She greedily breathed it in, a soft smile gracing her oval face at finally experiencing warm air and sunlight. But when she looked down below the balcony, her breath hitched in her throat.

Everywhere she looked, innocent civilians were being forced to work, some being whipped if they stopped from their labor. She saw a few natives here and there, but what surprised her were the immeasurable amount of colonists that were being punished. As far as she was concerned, the Shawnee woman had assumed her people were the only ones suffering under the tyrant's reign while the white people enjoyed a life of luxury.

But this war was bigger than what she had imagined.

“I cannot continue like this. I need my weapons first, and then I’m going to kill Washington once and for all.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Where is the prisoner?”

“She must have escaped,” the guard reported to the commanding officer with bitter distaste.

“Fine. Search the area for the savage, kill her on sight if anyone spots her.”

The other guard’s eyes widened, perspiration beading down his face. “B-but Connor will—”

A sudden fury crossed over the man’s face, dark eyes stormy with rage from his subordinate’s disobedience. “Did I not give you an order?”

“N-no . . . I-I mean yes!” the officer sputtered, cringing away as his boss fisted his hand inside the fabric of his shirt.

“Do as you’re told. Besides, what he doesn’t know, the better for us all.” Shoving the man away from him, the officer barked orders to the other patrolling troops before heading down towards the weapon room.

Alsoomse spied on the soldiers from above the platform, her almond eyes scouting the entire vicinity. Activating her eagle vision, the native woman crouched across the thin wooden beam, eyes narrowing at the seven armed guards. She couldn’t decide how to proceed with her plan, trying to weigh her options on who the first kill would be. If she needed to safely get across the room, she would have to start with the back and work her way towards the front.

_But how?_

Without her weapons, she was left completely vulnerable; taking down enemies almost twice her build would be burdensome—it would be suicide, and one false move would surely have her killed before she could escape. Unless she managed to successfully take one down and pickpocket their weapon . . .

Leaping down onto the piled crates, Alsoomse crawled down onto the floor, cautiously moving closely behind an unsuspicious guard that slowly paced by the stairwell. She softly panted, avoiding the gleam of the dawning sun’s rays as she stayed within the shadows. Before the guard could take a detour, her arms have already constricted round his face, shielding his eyes from his surroundings as she brought him down to the ground.

The Shawnee woman gritted her teeth, squeezing her arms around his bulbous neck. He was struggling underneath her hold, causing her to shift around as he was slowly slipping from her grasp. She readjusted her arms, praying he would faint before she could fail in her endeavors. To her relief, his body started going slack, his breathing fading away as she no longer felt the familiar warm breath hitting against her skin. Checking his pulse, she released a deep sigh before laying his limp body in the dark and away from prying eyes, making sure she looted his ammo and small flintlock, as well as his hunting knife.

“Hey, who goes there?”

She looked up the same time the other guard spotted her, both simultaneously frozen in time. Before he could open his mouth, the native woman was on him in a whirlwind, using the hunting knife to deeply slash across his throat, causing blood to spew from the wounded area. Then, she kicked him off the rails, hearing him gurgle over until his body plopped down on the ground several feet below, alerting the others to investigate.

Alsoomse dashed across the landing, jumping over the rails and onto the platform below just as the other guards ascended the stairs, hoping to find the intruder in the same exact spot. She quickly peered back at their confused faces before running towards the door, opening it as she stepped inside the vacated room.

The commanding officer, upon hearing the intrusion, spun around only to gaze into the nothingness. His narrowed eyes noted every detail in the room, deliberately making his way towards the center with a gun in hand. He toothily grinned at the large shadow hidden behind a pillar, making his way towards the stranger.

“I know you’re in here, poppet. Best come out nice and easy.” Loading the barrel of the gun, the distinct click resonated throughout the room, his dark chuckle menacingly getting louder. Without hesitation, the officer jumped around the pillar, firing loud shots into the air, eyes gleefully shining from the impacting bullets that hit their target.

His smile wore off when he realized he shot at a sack of sand, growling in frustration as he continued his search.

“Where are you, you filthy savage? Come out wherever you are . . .” His sickening sweet calls made Alsoomse shudder.

She loaded her flintlock, spitting out the cartridge before replacing the weapon with a new one. Taking a deep breath, Alsoomse emerged from her hiding spot and fired at the soldier’s knee.

He gave an agonizing scream, dropping his own weapon as he tumbled to the ground, seething as he couldn’t move his injured leg. He peered back at the woman strutting towards him, spitting at the ground before she could hoist him up by the arm.

The native threateningly aimed the gun at his neck, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down as she pressed further. Leaning closer to his face, she hissed, “Where is Washington?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“I don’t have time for this.” She moved the gun towards his crotch, seeing him jump when the mussel of the gun touched him. “You better tell me his location, or else it won’t be pretty.”

He thickly gulped, closing his eyes as she gently pressed onto the trigger. “Alright! The king is in the throne room, but it’s heavily guarded. You will never get past.”

“We will see.” Without warning, Alsoomse shot the man through the heart, his body flying several feet away from her. Blood coated the floor in a long trail, some even staining her, and the heavy pounding against the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

_There has to be another way out._

Rapidly grabbing all of her weapons from the stands, and securing them in their appropriate holsters, Alsoomse briskly looked up towards the exposed opening that led outside. She squeezed her body through the tiny window before stepping out onto the ledge before the door was busted open.

“Where is she?! I want her found; search everywhere!”

She cringed from the violent force of men turning over the furniture, hearing a few crashes of glass and other fragile items. Her eyes gazed ahead of her, shimmying across the ledge as she searched into every window for her prey.

* * *

 

Washington was beyond furious from hearing about the savage’s escape from the dungeons, veins bulging from his red face as he slammed his throne in fury. He rapidly advanced on the poor messenger, eyes glinting wildly while his fingers harshly pulled the man towards him.

“Don’t bother returning until you have her bound in _chains_!” he hissed, shoving aside the trembling man. His hands itched to strangle someone, though he held in his bloodlust as he gestured towards the other guards. “I want her dead! Keep guard for the door.”

“Yes, your highness.” The guards exited the throne room, leaving the tyrant to brood over his failures.

Meanwhile, the female assassin watched from the window, stepping down onto the tile floor. She concealed herself behind the pillar when he looked her way, moving from pillar to pillar when his attention was driven elsewhere. Looking back to the pistol in her hand, she grimaced when she realized that she had one bullet left.

“Great,” she murmured to herself, eyeing Washington. “I cannot afford to miss.”

She placed the single bullet inside the gun, her hands expertly loading her weapon ready while her eyes were trained on him. Sweat beaded on her skin, her heart firing away at almost a hundred beats per second. Alsoomse was about to fire when his masculine voice spoke before she could shoot.

“It’s futile; I know you’re here. Come out.”

 _Shoot him!_ Her mind reeled her to take the shot, but her body was acting on its own accord. She revealed herself from her hiding spot, gun still aimed at the tyrant as she trotted over the small steps of the throne until she was several feet away from him.

His cold eyes leveled hers, head proudly overlooking her. “Job well done, my dear. You managed to slaughter my men, and now you’re going to kill me for the throne.”

“I am ridding you for my people,” she spat. “I have no desire for power, unlike you.”

His wicked grin sent her on edge, shuddering as his cape swished behind him. “Everyone wants power, regardless of what kind of person they are. We all have dark sides, and I’m afraid you’re no different.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is it?” he questioned, edging closer towards the tense woman. “Are you willing to sacrifice your very life for others who would betray you without a moment’s thought?”

She lowered her gun, glowering at the powerful leader while heedfully observing him encircling her like a predator. When his hand rested on the nape of her neck, Alsoomse nervously gazed into his eyes, the light pools of his orbs reflecting the madness within him.

“Join us. We can accomplish so much together. They’re just holding you back from your true destiny; look how well off Connor is. He embraced his true potentials.”

She swallowed. “He’s evil, and so are you. That’s why I must end this.”

The gun loudly fired into the air, the shrill calls of the birds soaring across the sky blocked the booming noise. The Shawnee woman felt all of her burdens lifted off her shoulders when the body lifelessly plummeted towards the ground, the gold-encrusted crown falling off and rolling across the pristine floor. His shallow breaths gave her comfort, each breath he took slowly receding and his hand going limp.

Alsoomse nodded to herself, looking back to the throne where she expected the scepter to be. Panic washed over here when she found it empty, arms groping every nook and cranny of the chair, muttering to herself.

“No, no .  . .” Tears threatened to escape from her eyes; all she had worked for, for her freedom and her people were disintegrating like ashes before her eyes. She never thought about this predicament from ever occurring—Washington almost never let the scepter stray away from his sights—but as she remembered, he didn’t have the weapon armed on him when she was conversing with him. That’s why she wasn’t killed easily as she should’ve thought . . .

With a snarl she returned to the dying body on the ground, kneeling over him in desperation. “Where is it?!”

Washington meekly smiled, closing his eyes as his head leaned back, his bloodied hand peacefully resting over his heart. “You lose, savage . . . Soon . . . the world will be plunged . . . into darkness . . . There will be . . . a new ruler . . .” With those final parting words, Washington’s head went limp, his scornful smile forever plaguing her thoughts.

Her hands clenched within the fabric of her shorts, wet droplets streaming down her oval face as she sniffed. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her distorted face hidden within her braids while she mourned alone.

_Everything is over. I have failed._

Shaking her head, Alsoomse wiped away the fresh tears, swallowing air back into her system. No, she didn’t suffer from the hands of her enemies for nothing; she refused to believe everything she has accomplished thus far was for nothing. There was still time, she reasoned, time to fix everything and return to how it was before. All she needed was the scepter, and this horrid nightmare will finally end.

Her eyes widened, head suddenly snapping up towards the light that faded into the horizon, darkness falling into the pyramid as the sun blanketed the earth. She stood up from her spot, exiting the throne room through the window she had previously entered from.

The wind slapped against her face, her braids billowing from the powerful force as she stared off into the distance. As the sun slowly trekked out of sight, taking its warm glow with it beyond the maze of trees, the Shawnee warrior glanced down over the expanse of her stomach.

_Ratonhnhaké:ton._

“Of course,” she whispered. “It makes sense.”

A new dread haunted her, recalling the sadistic glee and pure malice contained within him. She tried in vain to blink all the tortures he bestowed onto her; she refused to let him corrupt her mind when her body was already tainted by him. She would never give him the satisfaction of claiming her as a whole.

The native woman vowed to prevent the madness from spreading, and everything will be over once Connor’s life was snatched from her bare hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL WARNING: Explicit rape
> 
> This is my first time writing a rape scene (and "smut") so please don't judge me too harshly . . .

The gentle breeze danced between the tall grass in the fields, the soft glow of the moonlight gleaming down on the world below. All was eerily quiet; the usual sound of agonized screams and gunpowder smokes never once vacated the town as the native woman walked down the dirt road.

Her dark eyes nervously glanced in every direction, sweat beading down her face, her grip on her hatchet tightening with every cautious step she took. Her vibrant blue robes brushed against her exposed skin, and her moccasin boots lightly padded against the rocks.

Amidst all the dark houses, only the local tavern appeared open, for the warm golden glow shone through the windows. As she walked closer, Alsoomse couldn’t help but feel drawn to the pull of the glow, as if it had bewitched her senses. Her eyes hypnotically followed up to the oaken doors, her hand absentmindedly reaching for the handle.

No one vacated the lit tavern, causing the Shawnee woman to snap out of her trance and peer at every corner of the bar. All the mugs were stored away, and the chairs were placed upside-down on the tables that Alsoomse wondered how everything could look so immaculate, with nothing out of place.

She didn’t like the sickening feeling in her stomach.

 _It’s too quiet in here. How could this place be so clean, especially when there is a war?_ _And wasn’t Connor supposed to be here in Lexington?_

So many questions were left unanswered, and yet they all revolved around the Mohawk man she was supposed to hunt down. It was unsettling to think this could be a trap; all the signs were there, but the thought of capturing the man who had tortured her and took the scepter had left her blind to her surroundings. She mentally cursed herself for being so foolish, but her self-loathing immediately passed when she heard heavy footsteps trudging down the steps and stopped behind her.

Alsoomse couldn’t turn around, her eyes trained on the looming shadow shrouding her body and the wall in front of her. Watching the black shape move in place, her breath hitched in her throat when the scepter revealed itself in his hand. She gritted her teeth, the hatchet weighing heavily in the palm of her hand and her feet shuffling in front of her. _Breath,_ she reassured herself, _you can do this._

“What’s your plan?” she grounded out between clenched teeth, slowly turning around to glower at the amused man in front of her. “You’re going to take over the world?”

“No, I’m not . . .” She tensed from his low reply, nervously stumbling back with her hand steadying her trembling frame as he prowled closer to her. “ _We_ are.”

“You’re mad! I would never side with you, or harm all the innocent lives.”

She saw his frown deepen and his hand that held the scepter rise, the golden glow shining from the apple. The native woman acted fast and without thought; she screeched in the air with her raised hatchet, making an attempt to swipe at his head, only to see him step aside before she could nick him. She rolled onto the floor, hiding behind a knocked over table as the golden light shot out of the top, and Alsoomse cried out in pain when the spot behind her was burnt from impact.

“Why don’t you come out?” he hissed, striding over to her spot.

Her heart thudded against her chest, eyes quickly scanning over at the opened door in front of her. Her feet willed themselves to dash across the threshold, ducking in time to avoid the streak of lightning that crisped the door, and then she darted across the lonely night.

Alsoomse drew her hatchet away, hands fumbling for the flintlock in her holster. She almost stumbled onto the ground while she loaded the ammo, panting in alarm as her head pivoted towards the Mohawk man that pursued her. Turning back in front of her, she closed her eyes and sprinted towards the opened red barn doors, catching her breath while rapidly locking the ammo in place. She heaved a throaty sigh, narrowed eyes lingering onto the gun in front of her, and she acutely listened to the silence all around her, trying to locate his whereabouts.

 _But I just heard him!_ Her head slowly peeked from the top of the crate, gun leveled on the rough surface. Her fingers trembled from the pressure, biting her lip as she rose from her spot, stepping closer to the open door in astonishment.

Abruptly, she felt his entire weight crash into her from above, the sudden action making the native woman cry out and her finger accidentally pulling the trigger before the gun slipped onto the ground. The bullet missed as it whizzed through the ceiling, small debris cascading down onto her face. In the bare moonlight that slithered through the small hole, Alsoomse could view Connor’s sweating face, his face coming closer to hers, and when she looked over at the golden apple from her peripheral vision, the object’s glow reflected in her dark orbs.

“Rise,” he growled.

Alsoomse hissed, every nerve in her body felt as if it was searing hot. She whimpered from the pain, tears leaking down her face when she couldn’t control the movement of her arms and legs; they were acting on their own accord, forcing the young woman to hoist herself up once Connor removed his weight from her body. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but shiver from his intense eyes that roamed over her heaving body, swallowing in fear when she saw him hungrily lick his lips.

“Come closer,” he softly whispered. “And you will follow my orders from this point on.”

Her muscles ached, her teeth tightly clenching together like sawdust, and her limbs did as he commanded once again. She groaned when he set the scepter against the wall, so close yet so far from her reach. Her eyes stayed glued to the powerful weapon, ignoring how close he moved towards her, feeling his drawled breaths ghosting over her neck. Only when his calloused hands cupped her face and forcibly turned her head did she take in the lust in his dark eyes, curtly shaking her head from it all.

“No . . . leave me alone . . .” she pleaded, wincing as he placed a soft kiss against the column of her neck, lingering on the spot.

“Take it off,” he hoarsely replied, fingers fisting in her scalp while his tongue ventured down her neck, angling her flushed body closer to him.

_What?_

She couldn’t comprehend what he was demanding of her, his brusque order a bit vague, but it began to click together when her fingers started to shakily remove the patterned belt around her shorts, widened eyes watching the article slip down her thighs and onto the floor, her moccasin boots then stepping out of them. Alsoomse then felt her fingers trail over the helm of her shorts, leaving a trail of fire along its path. She breathed when his teeth scraped over her pulse, one of his hands sliding down her arm and intertwining with her own hand, assisting them in shrugging off her shorts.

The native woman panted underneath him, never before had she ever experienced this feeling, and she never wanted to feel this vulnerable ever again, especially in front of her enemy. Gathering strength in her arms, she futilely willed them over his muscular frame in hopes of shoving him off of her, but he only snarled and pushed her back against a pillar, locking her wrists above her head. Alsoomse grunted from the pain, but the noise refused to leave from her as Connor silenced her with his own lips.

“Ngh!” She whimpered, thighs clenching together to prevent his hand from touching her core, but it proved ineffective. His fingers teased her clit, slowly encircling it before inserting them inside of her, the man darkly chuckling from her small groan. She weakly struggled against his constricting grip, crying out when he hit that special spot inside of her.

Connor inhaled the nape of her neck, roughly sucking on it while pumping in and out of her. His knuckles were pushing deeper and deeper, her essence coating his entire hand. He applied more pressure, smirking when her body unintentionally bucked against him, watching her breasts push against the tight material of her top.

 _No, no, no._ The Shawnee native stilled as a cold, steely object was pressed against her chest, sliding underneath her top, and her eyes closed the image of the blue shirt tearing apart in two away from her mind. She gasped when the chilly air slapped against her light copper skin, goosebumps erupting all over her skin. When he suddenly withdrew his hand away from her clit, her cum leaking down her legs, her entire body collapsed onto the ground, crawling away from him to huddle herself in the haystack.

Her dark eyes fearfully watched him unfastened the buttons of his shirt, swiftly taking off the fabric and other weapons off his body in a blink of an eye. As he reached for his pants, she rapidly diverted her attention towards the scepter that sinfully beckoned for her to take, the object casually lounging further away from the dark scene.

“Look at me,” a husky voice whispered against her bare skin, his hot breath spanning out against her legs. “I want to see you.”

She didn’t have a choice—she was still under the apple’s influence. Feeling the scorching pain return, doubling in pain along with her bod’s reaction towards the Mohawk man’s sensual skills, she had to obey the apple’s powerful force. Her head slowly faced Connor, her breath hitching in her throat at the muscles rippling on top of her, seeing him shift closer towards her abdomen like a predator.

A moist tongue hotly roamed over the scar on her side, lapping at the indents of each word he carved onto her skin, making Alsoomse shut her legs around his broad shoulders on reflex. She applied more pressure, hoping to choke him to death, but his large, calloused hand dangerously squeezed her thigh apart, leaving crescent marks on her skin. The native woman silently cried to herself, refusing to give him satisfaction after everything he has done to her.

But Alsoomse finally gave a loud sob when his large arousal made contact with her sensitive clit, hovering just above her entrance before penetrating through her barrier in one final move.

She winced from the pain, her throat parched from her screams and eyes stinging, and her muscles tensed from the foreign feeling. Her swollen, red lips lapped at the metallic taste of her own blood as she bit down hard, her sweaty muscles tensing all around her. It only got worse when he began moving out of her, then gave a long stroke before exerting himself back inside her heat.

His forehead touched hers, furrowed eyes gazing into her own while increasing his speed. She could only glare back through half-lidded eyes, their breaths intimately mixing with one another in fury. Her skin felt too hot, and the Shawnee woman was coerced into giving in to the desire coursing through her veins. She tried to ignore the labored breathing against her skin; the low animalistic growls of his native language didn’t help ease her mind as his hands possessively wrapped themselves around her lithe body, caging her beneath the hay while he assaulted her body.

“C-Connor!” she accidentally squeaked out his English name as he twitched inside of her, huffing when his tongue slithered against hers in a wicked dance.

“Say my real name,” he spat, devouring her hurt screams.

Her bare chest heaved against his moist torso, and her sex ached terribly from his languid thrusts, blood and cum trailing onto the earth underneath them. Perspiration beaded down her face, cascading down between the valley of her breasts, and she gritted her teeth as she whispered through clenched teeth, “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“Louder,” he demanded, his tempo heightening as skin viciously slapped against skin.

“RATONHNHAKÉ:TON!” she loathingly hollered, long fingers practically ripping away at his skull. Her eyes clouded over, legs wrapping around his muscular waist to bring him closer to her body. In matter of seconds, she gave one prolonged scream before orgasming, seeing bight flashes shrouding her vision as she came. She shivered when he stilled inside of her, groaning when he pushed all the way before emptying his seed inside of her.

A distant call of the eagle echoed throughout the night, wakening the silent souls absent throughout town. Inside the barn, the two silhouettes didn’t detach from one another, their strained breathing the only noise that was heard.

Alsoomse could slowly feel the effects wearing off, suddenly finding that her limbs were now able to function on _her_ command. A satisfied smile etched its way across her face, sad eyes watching over the small hole in the ceiling where the moon knowingly watched it all. She hid this revelation from the man above her, instead letting him come out of her and turn her around, his hands clutching her back tightly close against his wet chest, feeling his hard arousal once more before letting the darkness take control of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . . Poor Alsoomse X'(


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)
> 
> Sorry for not updating; I've been a bit preoccupied lately but now I have the time to finally finish this story! All of my midterms and college apps are done and over with, and now I could relax.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this last installment! And happy holidays to everyone!

Her eyes snapped open from the harsh light coming through the slithering cracks of the walls, head feebly rising from the hay underneath her. The Shawnee woman distastefully craned her head, alleviating the crick in her neck before glancing down at her battered appearance, swallowing from the various bruises and red marks all over her light copper skin. Her elegant fingers lightly traced over a fresh bruise on her collarbone, biting her lower lip from the sensitive sensation.

All was quiet inside the homey barn; no animal sounds blanketed the air with their calls, and not a single human being strolled by to check on them. Even if there was the pure light trying to get into the barn from outside, Alsoomse couldn’t help but recede further into the shadows, hiding her ashamed face away from the walls.

The native woman then let her dark eyes wander over to the sleeping male beside her, his brawny arm possessively gripping her waist to pull her closer to him. Even in his sleep, Connor still managed to haunt her with his stone features devoid of any emotion, his mouth set in a thin line and eyebrows slightly furrowed. She stilled from watching his bare chest slightly heave up and down while his free hand dug deep into the straws of hay over her head, thinking he would soon awake and repeat what he had done last night.

Her muscles relaxed when he hadn’t moved from his spot, and Alsoomse focused her attention onto more important matters, more specifically on the shadow in the far corner of the barn.

_The scepter._

The foreboding object simply laid there against the wall, taunting her for the taking while the Mohawk man next to her was vulnerable and unarmed. Sweat beaded down her temple, lips licking in anticipation as she glanced between the scepter and her captor, waiting for the perfect opportunity. But fear had held her in place, her pulse wildly ringing in her ears. _Take it!_

Her mind mentally egged her on, forcing the young woman to will her legs to de-tangle from his, cringing from the excruciating pain in between her thighs. She knew without a doubt that there would be blood coating her thighs, for she had never been with a man before, but the native woman gritted her teeth and soaked in the pain. Hands pressed against the dirt, she allowed for her body to carefully rise from her spot, her arms wobbling from the weight. She quietly limped away from him once she recovered her bearings.

Too late.

It was as if his thoughts were connected with hers, for as soon as she crawled away from him, his dark eyes immediately shot open from the loss of contact. Connor’s body easily got up from the ground, eyes darkly glowering at the woman reaching for the weapon. He approached her in just a few short strides, though her slow movements had made it all the more easier for him to capture his prey.

Alsoomse yelped when her scalp was brutally yanked back before her fingers could graze the weapon, snarling in his constrictive hold. She whimpered from his hardened muscles that bulged behind her, crying out when the man’s calloused hands captured her wrists together behind her back, nails digging into her skin.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor hissed, trying to move the stubborn woman away from the scepter.

“Let me go!” She screamed, feet firmly planted onto the ground while he growled from behind. Closing her eyes, the Shawnee warrior abruptly head-butted against his skull, gasping when he dumbly released her, and her eyes winced from the powerful impact. _Hurry!_

Alsoomse rolled onto the floor in break-neck speed, long arms diving for the handle of the scepter as it rested comfortably in her grasp. The top brightly glowed, its powers calling upon her while her eyes stayed transfixed onto the Apple. Before she could turn around and use it on her captor, the Mohawk man pounced on top of her.

Shrill screams barricaded the entire barn and crates were smashed aside, both natives fighting for the majestic weapon trapped in their hands, trying to pry the scepter away from the other. The dark-haired woman cried out, feeling the man harshly tug onto the handle to pull her closer to him. Alsoomse gritted her teeth, growling in his face before jamming her knee against his stomach.

Nothing had ever felt good than watching the Mohawk fall onto the floor in defeat, arms clutching his midsection while narrowed eyes glared back at her. She simply lifted her chin, smoothly walking closer until her feet were right in front of his face before lifting the scepter.

In an instant, Connor was writhing on the floor, hands digging into the soil as he screamed out from the Apple’s curse. His long hair clung to his face, gazing into the Apple’s golden light that reflected back in his dark pools. A wicked smirk graced his chiseled face, sending a shiver down her spine in uneasiness. “You’re going to finish me?”

Alsoomse gently kneeled, cupping his chin with her free hand. “What you did was unforgivable. Slaughtering your own kind, enslaving innocent people, taking my own free will and _raping_ me,” she ground out the last part, feeling tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “You deserve to die . . .”

His fingers abruptly weaved behind the nape of her neck, smashing his lips against hers in an intense kiss, swallowing her surprised gasp. Alsoomse broke away with a shaky breath, swollen lips parted and eyes questioningly seeing him back away. “Do it,” he gravely whispered.

The Shawnee woman bit her lower lip, her thoughts spiraling down a dark path as she glanced upon his vulnerable state. She could just imagine various ways he could die, but the warrior didn’t want to kill him just yet. No, she wanted Connor to experience the true horrors she was forced to succumb to under the Apple’s powers.

Alsoomse almost smiled when she saw him attempting to resist the Apple’s pull—she knew the feeling. No matter how hard he tried, the searing pain coursing through his veins burned like a thousand flaming arrows barraging his entire body. She applied more power, the intensity of the glow increasing with each gurgled shout that escaped past Connor’s lips, his body convulsing onto the floor.

Her cheeks suddenly became moist, finding the source of the wetness to be the tears leaking down her face. Alsoomse couldn’t comprehend why she was feeling this way as she lapped at the salty substance; _he_ was the one who captured her and tortured her, _he_ was the one who sided with Washington and stripped away her people’s freedoms, and _he_ enjoyed every bit of it.

But it wasn’t in her nature.

Giving in to her anger would only fuel what Washington had forewarned her about the wickedness inside of her, and she wasn’t going to let him win; not now, not ever would she allow the dead man to control her mind, for it was the only thing left that still kept her in check. Tentatively lowering the scepter, Alsoomse furiously closed her eyes, letting the tears continue to fall while hearing Connor’s pained sigh.

“I’m not like you,” the woman whispered, sad eyes watching him heavily breathe while he tried to sit up. “But I can change this.”

“Wait—”

The scepter was raised high, blanketing the entire barn in its golden light before migrating throughout the region, enveloping everyone and everything with it.

 

The wind trickled through the long crop fields, letting the corn stalks lean to the sides from the powerful force. An eagle soared in the dark sky, shrieking while its brown wings fluidly glided away from the field. Her eyes shot open, warily taking in her surroundings as she made an effort to stand, her head rising above the stalks. Glancing down at her apparel, Alsoomse gasped when her familiar blue robes were on her, along with the wide assortment of weapons strapped to her beaded belt.

_Where is the scepter?_

Panicking, the Shawnee woman glanced to all sides of her, not finding the object anywhere. She dug through the field, trying to locate the golden weapon, though everything appeared the same to her wherever she looked. Her mind reeled, swearing in her native tongue while her fingers rapidly worked their way through the feather-light stalks.

“Alsoomse?”

The dark-haired woman gasped, slowly pivoting her attention to the familiar green poncho clothed over the native man. She smiled, arms immediately wrapping around her old friend as she placed her head against his shoulder. “Krythin!”

Krythin blinked, softly chuckling to himself as he returned the gesture. “Sister, what is the meaning of this?”

“Just glad to see my brother in one peace,” she genuinely replied, detaching herself from him.

“Was there anything else? Were you looking for something?”

Even if he wasn’t there to witness the horrors she had gone through, Alsoomse badly wanted to divulge everything to her dear friend, but she bit her tongue in protest. He wouldn’t understand; he didn’t seem to remember anything from Washington’s rule, so why bother telling him? The scepter was long gone, hidden away where no one, not even Washington nor Connor could find it. And the thought made her glad.

So she shook her head.

“Alright,” Krythin stated, pleased to see she was feeling better. “We must hurry, or else we will miss the outbreak in Boston.”

“Outbreak?”

He hadn’t answered her; mounting on his horse, Krythin tugged on the reins, and both natives galloped down the dirt road leading to the main town. During their journey, Alsoomse tried to catch up on everything she had missed, sometimes asking Krythin about everything. He had arched an eyebrow, confused with what she was demanding, though nonetheless he complied.

She patiently tuned to his recounts, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard Washington was working with the American cause. _Least he isn’t a tyrant like last time,_ she shuddered, whipping the reins to will her horse to trot faster towards town.

Was it even real? Had everything just been a figment of her imagination?

Alsoomse slowed down alongside Krythin, jumping off her horse and securing the rein against a wooden post. “It felt real,” she whispered, her hand ghostly running over her unblemished skin as if expecting the fresh marks to stain her forever.

They pushed through the crowd, shoving the yelling people to the side and stopping at the end of the chains, pair of eyes looking over to the ships stationed at the docks. She squinted, seeing a bunch of common folk pick up the crates of tea and unload them into the ocean, no doubt wasting precious money from the crown.

Her breath stilled and her skin grew pale upon glancing at the bulky figure on the ship assisting the townsfolk, almost stumbling back from the unexpected presence. She didn't think she would ever cross paths with him again, and seeing his robust frame stalk around the ship made her fearful of the animalistic power and control he had over her.

Krythin noticed this, his arm quickly wrapped around her shoulders to help steady her. “Sister, what’s wrong?”

“. . . Nothing,” was all she could whisper, hearing the deafening cheers of everyone surrounding them block out the noises of tea being dumped into the ocean.

Throughout all the chaos, Connor’s hands had stilled against the sides of the wooden crate, his stern gaze meeting the native woman’s face hidden within the crowd. She visibly swallowed, praying he wasn’t the same man she had known in the other time coming out to seek revenge.

But the Mohawk man only lingered on her for a few moments before continuing about with his business, turning his back away from her to assist the other colonial men in their endeavors. And she failed to notice the small smirk that graced upon his rugged features before the British soldiers arrived to disband their cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, wonder what that was about ;D


End file.
